


Beat

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:13:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27851474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Fluffy pounding.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 20
Kudos: 143





	Beat

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Prompto’s teeth graze his shoulder, and Noctis’ head lolls back, chest arching forward, body desperate to be wrapped up in Prompto’s warm embrace. He pushes into the bite that comes and tangles his fingers in his best friend’s blond hair, holding Prompto down and encouraging more, longer, _deeper_. He can feel Prompto sucking a hickey into his neck that he hopes lasts for days. 

It’s stupid, of course. If it shows over his collar, Ignis will kill him. If they’re caught here, his father will kill them. Prompto’s training sword is on the floor somewhere, Noctis’ back in the armiger. At least they managed to stumble to the edge of the training hall, tucked behind the pillars, blanketed in shadows, and maybe they’ll have time to right themselves before any newcomers spot them. Dozens of guards and glaives have access. Cor could catch them, Nyx, _Gladiolus_ , each option more embarrassing than the last, and Prompto balked at that possibility, but Noctis doesn’t care because he _needs Prompto so bad_. The second Prompto knocked him to the floor, Noctis was done for. He spread his legs and fumbled off his belt and practically begged Prompto to _fuck him_. Prompto obeyed that royal order, like he always does. 

Prompto’s so good to him. Feels so good inside him. Keeps thrusting up, rocking forward, grinding them together. Noctis is a shuddering mess of nerves and pleasure. He’s breathing so hard that it almost drowns out the heavy thrum of his own blood pounding in his ears. Prompto keeps groaning too, but at least he’s trying to be quiet. Noctis knows he is. Because when he’s not, Prompto’s _wild_ , and Noctis has made him scream so loud before that the neighbours had to come around and bang on the apartment door. 

Prompto comes up for air, probably leaving a big red bruise in his wake, and nips his way along Noctis’ throat, nuzzling at his chin. Noctis turns to connect them. He thrusts his tongue between Prompto’s parted lips as Prompto thrusts up into him, jostling him atop Prompto’s thighs. He wraps himself tighter around Prompto’s middle, boots digging into Prompto’s back, hands all over Prompto’s shoulders and hair. Prompto feels good everywhere he touches. Noctis could fuck him for _hours._ Somewhere in the back of Noctis’ mind, he knows he’s going to be in trouble for wasting another session, but a part of him thinks that this is _so much more passionate_ —surely this burns more calories. He’s definitely working up more of a sweat. He gets hot under his clothes when he spars, but Prompto’s got him on fire. Prompto’s body’s boiling too, but Noctis keeps touching it anyway. He loves that Prompto’s usually sleeveless. That Prompto wears such skinny jeans. He’s always showing off how good he looks, and Noctis eats it up, because Noctis knows he’s so lucky to have Prompto in his life. 

Prompto tries to turn like he’s going to suck Noctis’ throat again, but Noctis keeps Prompto at his mouth, because he hasn’t had enough. Never will. He rocks himself forward onto Prompto’s pulsing cock and clamps down, sucks hard at Prompto’s bottom lip, licks the roof of Prompto’s mouth—touches, tastes, savours everything he can. He even loves how sweaty and gross Prompto smells. Loves the wet, angry slapping sounds every time they come together. He wonders vaguely if Prompto knows how much he changed Noctis’ life and how badly Noctis _needed this._

The hand palming his stomach finally slides down to his cock, gripping tight, and Noctis chokes—finally giving Prompto a chance to turn his face aside. Noctis goes right back to kissing his cheek while he moans between gasps, “Hey... bud... can I, uh...?”

Noctis mumbles, “What?” around the shell of Prompto’s ear. Prompto’s next thrust is stuttering but still glorious. He gives Noctis’ cock a little squeeze, and Noctis has to stop to shiver, because he’s so close, can never last as long as he wants to when Prompto’s in him. 

“Can I... come inside...?”

Noctis nods, but they’re so tight together that Prompto probably can’t see it, must be able to _feel it_. Noctis bites Prompto’s throat and groans, “Yeah, baby... _please_...” He _wants_ it inside. Probably shouldn’t. But they’ve been exclusive forever and Noctis trusts him implicitly. It’s not like the locker room doesn’t have showers they can clean off in. As hot as it is fucking right in the Citadel, he half wishes they’d made it home so they didn’t have to clean up, could just lie in each other’s mess in a hazy afterglow. 

Prompto gasps, and a second later, he’s coming—Noctis can feel it, but only for half a moment before he’s following and losing all coherence. Prompto jerks him through an amazing orgasm that blacks out his vision, makes his extremities go numb—he tenses and trembles through one wave after another. He paints both their clothes but doesn’t, can’t care. They squirm against each other while they both ride it out, and then Prompto’s gone lax, and Noctis deflates into him. 

They sit there for probably too long, so ensconced that it’s hard to tell where one person’s skin starts and another’s ends. Noctis doesn’t know if the moisture on his collarbone is sweat or spit or both or whose. He might love these moments most, where he’s dizzy with pleasure, wholly satisfied, and he’s so vulnerable but feels so safe. He’s never wanted to give anyone his heart as badly as Prompto. 

Prompto’s got that dazed, dopey grin on like he’s having the same dumb thoughts. Noctis rubs their noses together, sickeningly happy. 

Maybe because his brain’s short circuited, he blurts without thinking, “D’you think it’d be safe to warp like this, or would it take your dick with me?”

Prompto blinks and stares at him. A full minute passes, and then Prompto snorts, breaking into hysterics, and if Noctis isn’t laughing too, he’s at least smiling. Prompto’s smiles are infectious. Around a fit of breathless giggles, Prompto rasps, “I dunno, man. Please don’t test it!”

Noctis nods solemnly, because it’s definitely not a risk worth taking. Prompto’s dick is too special. And he wants Prompto whole and healthy and happy forever. He digs into Prompto for a hug, and Prompto hugs him back, perfect to the core.


End file.
